Angel Eyes
by Chocolate-SugarCube
Summary: Mello had always been called an 'angel', her deep blue eyes and light blonde hair portrayed it perfectly, but she always knew she wasn't the angel in her story.  MattXFemMello, Genderswitch, AU, rating will change. More warnings inside. Very dark.
1. Prologue

_"Mello had always been called an 'angel', her deep blue eyes and light blonde hair portrayed it perfectly, but she always knew she wasn't the angel in her story."_

Hey, I'm actually back on here. This is going to be a dark one, I already know. I'm not entirely sure how it's going to go, but I'm planning that now I've done this.  
Parts of this are based on true things, parts are my imagination gone wild, you sort through it and decide which is which.

This story will include a lot of dark things, severe child abuse, self-harm, violence, disturbing imagery, gun play, bulimia, delusion, misanthropy, death, self-mutilation, religious abuse, child sexual abuse, slight gore, self-abuse, psychological disturbance, animal abuse... And a lot of other things I can't think of at this moment.

If anyone feels like beta-ing for me, pm me, I'd love that.

Once again, **Mello is female in this. **

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**Prologue**

It was like something from a film, or a book perhaps, a game even. Something of a miracle that such polar opposites, yet so similar, became what they did.

Mello is as fiery, malicious, loud, and prone to tantrums should her way be denied as Matt was soft, comforting, welcoming. His fear of... Well, everything, and self-doubting nature was the opposite of Mello's fierce tornado-like confidence.

She was constant in the way that she'd always be something new. Where Mello would go weeks without touching an informative book, or viewing anything informative at all, then suddenly fly into an obsession that she must know everything on a subject immediately, Matt would constantly seek out some knowledge, even if it wasn't directly there.

Despite their differences, no one else could calm her savage temper as quickly as he could with a few words, running his self-manicured fingers softly through her hair and holding her to him even when she struggled like a wildcat. In a similar fashion, no one could comfort him in the same way Mello's confident psychological understanding and loving care for him could. No one was entirely sure how it happened- except them perhaps. Their worlds had two parts, the parts where they were only thinking of each other, and the time they were actually together.

They shared as much of their emotions as they could, Mello told him of her fear of the world, of everyone, and in return, he told her how much he was hurting. Mello told him how much she was struggling to hold on, and he told her how afraid he was of letting go of the boundaries he'd clutched to for so long. She confessed her need to be controlled, to be mastered, and he replied that he was terrified to take that control, lest he misuse it.

Mello lived in a permanently shut world. Even when you were in her private world as deep as you could be, she'd still have you locked out. Though, only Matt had ever got to that point, and he intended to someday get behind the locks and bolts. Matt's world was a constantly open door, if it had a door at all, with a locked room at the back, that only Mello had the key to, that only she could see into the darkness and find him in it. She was sure there was more, another locked door, another place she didn't know about, but she couldn't find it.

Her temper was always burning under the surface, and it only took a small thing to spread gasoline, and set her off, it was something Mello's known for, and she loves it. One of the only things they argue about is over Mello's temper, and she hates it. When she isn't winning a debate, she'll always be quick to use whatever she can to turn things in her favour, whether it's showing off her nymph-like beauty to bewilder those who oppose her, or using some manipulation to persuade her opponent, or simply demanding she is right, and that she can't be anything else.

Matt however, was always perfectly happy to admit defeat if it had been well won. If indeed, he was in the wrong, he would apologize profusely, and learn from it. Mello had tried to be more like that herself; to not be so self-righteous, and perhaps let someone else have their way, but it just depressed her, as much as that annoyed Matt. One of the only things he didn't like about Mello was her need to be right, her insistence with it, even when she was definitely wrong, and she hated that he wouldn't let her get away with it.

'You're not always right, Mello,' he'll say. 'I know.' She'll reply, and says it again for good measure. 'I know.' 'Then why do you always have to be?' And she never has an answer, and she probably never will. She'll apologize, and then she'll let herself fall against him and she'll cry. He'll simply hold her, not knowing what to do. Eventually she'll fall asleep, sometimes there's more conversation in between, sometimes there isn't. He's awake longer, feeling her chest rise and fall steadily with breath as she sleeps against him. Sometimes he gets up, plays games, reads, writes, anything. She doesn't usually wake up, and eventually he'll go back to their- her bed, and sleep, or just lay with her until she wakes up.  
She'll forget about it by morning, and he'll be left with the guilt of it that she always tells him not to keep, but he does anyway.

Sometimes Mello thinks she should hate him, she thinks what they have can't be possible, she thinks of leaving. But she loves him too much, and Matt loves her, too. He loves her, and he knows her better than he knows himself, and he knows Mello knows more of him than anyone, including him, ever will.


	2. Count Down From Tonight

Okay, I had someone tell me that Mello wasn't acting like… Well, Mello. I know. I get it. In this part of the story, Mello is more like he/she is in Whammys then he/she is at the end. Plus I have a story out of this. Mello is still Mello, just been put through different things, which I will get to when I progress the plot. Give me time, the Mello you know and love will be here soon enough, now shush up, and let me write, damn it.

Oh, and thank you for reviewing. I love it.

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It must be quite late, Mello guessed. Four maybe, five even. It must be late if Matt had fallen asleep before she did, but then, of the two of them, she does least, and she knows it. There's music playing, ever so softly as not to wake her partner, in every almost sense of the word. The light on the bedside table flickers, and she tried to make a mental note to get him to change the bulb tomorrow. The dim light illuminates the man next to her, his dyed red hair clashes against her green pillow case. Above the low music, she can hear the rain spattering the window, and is glad she's inside, where she's safe. Safe in Matt's strong hold on her, Mello can forget everything.

She can forget that there are bills to pay that are already overdue, that there was little more than cereal, mini-pizza and cheap soda in the entire kitchen, that she couldn't find a job, that he had to work overtime just for them to get by. Here and now, it was all forgotten, because there was no other way to live with it.

Matt must've had a hard day if he fell asleep before she did, there were few nights that happened. He tries desperately not to show any of the exhaustion she knew was there until he was laying with her gathered into his arms, whispering into her hair about how much he'd missed her, about how difficult the day had been, about some new game, or something new he'd learnt that day. Sometimes she didn't listen, often she did. He fascinated her. Mello tries as hard as she can not to move when she's laying with him, 'If you move, the shouting will start.' She says to herself in her mind, knowing Matt wouldn't hurt her, would never intentionally shout at her. Despite all that's going on in her mind, the bed is comfortable, and Matt is warm. The rain hitting the window is a soothing beat to the underlining rhythm of his breathing was a perfect soundtrack to fall asleep to. She leant back more into Matt's tight embrace, and whispered his name soft enough to attract his attention if he was awake at all, but not enough to wake him. She guessed he was entirely asleep, because the only reply she got was a mumble of 'No… But A is jump…' sleepily, 'I love you.' She sighed affectionately, before giving herself over to sleep.

At exactly 7:30, the blaring of Matt's alarm shook him awake, and he instantly regretted that he'd have to work again today. Mello's bare chest pressed against him was enough alone to make him want to stay, but the bills wouldn't wait and he has to get up from the warm haven of their bed. She makes physical and vocal protests, as she always does, when he tries to leave her. 'Matt… Stay for just a bit more please?' But he knows if he does, he'll never leave again today, so he kisses her hair and tells her to be good while he's gone. She snuggles into the blankets and the warmth he's left behind, whining for him to stay. 'Please? I want you, stay with me.' And he almost does, he almost goes back to her in the warmth they've created and shared for the night. She almost tempts him to let her pull him down over her and bear into her until they're both sated. It doesn't matter whether she's feeling up to it or not, if it'd get him to stay, she's more than happy to comply.

But he doesn't. He does the same as he always hates to do and leaves her. 'Be a good girl, Mello. I love you, and I'll see you when I get back.' She gives up on the idea that he may not leave if she can persuade him and settles back to sleeping, mumbling that she loves him and that she'll have something ready for when he does get home. Perhaps some would see her taking such a submissive role as controlled, as her being suppressed. They both know that it's her devotion, and not his insistence that makes her want to submit for him. When he's ready to leave, he trusts himself to sit on the bed beside her now-sleeping, warm body and touches her skin, her hair, inhales her scent, and kisses her neck, gentle enough not to wake her, but she moans quietly. He closes his eyes briefly, thinking what he could do if he didn't have to leave, then he quickly leaves, whispering that he loves her as he does.

'_Mello! Mello!' I hear someone call my name, and glance up angrily. 'What?' I demand, glaring at my mother through the door. 'Mello, sweetie, are you ready to go out now?' I throw a nearby book at the door, which misses, and glare at myself in the mirror. 'No.' She sighs and leaves the room. I smirk hatefully at my reflection, how the eyeliner won't go perfectly symmetrical, how the lipstick smudges slightly, how the hair won't flick inwards how I want it. I scream in outrage, and grab a flick-knife that's usually hidden in a draw. In anger, I plunge it into my thigh and scream for another reason. It hurts. Oh fuck, it hurts. Blood spurts out and soaks the floor. I try to pull it out, whether to actually remove it, or to just plunge it back into myself, I didn't know or care. I give up on trying to pull it out, and leave it wedged there. I dipped my hand into the blood, screaming gone down to a continual whimpering, and drag it across my naked chest, painting myself with my own fluid. I continue to spread it over my body, smirking despite the pain at the metallic smell filling the room. I don't start to feel hazy until it's drying to a dark maroon sticky coating. _

When Matt gets home, Mello's in the kitchen, spread across the counter with a book in hand. 'Hey, what're you re-' She raises her hand to cut him off, and returns to her book. He shrugs it off and finds the food she's prepared for him. There's about 20 minutes of silence that he's eating, and she's reading, and when he's finished, Mello puts the book down and faces him. 'How was your day?' She asks, as if they've only been in the same room a few moments. Matt's used to her strange behaviours, and answers her in detail, knowing she wants him to. When he's finished she slips off the counter, flinching as she lands a little awkwardly, and asks him to come upstairs. Matt watches her disappear up the stairs then turns to the book she left on the table. 'The Poison Paradox, hm?' He says to himself, reading out the title of the book. Mello had a weird fascination of toxicology, possibly because she couldn't handle a decent firearm yet. She'd made him promise that he'd teach her someday, but they'd never had the time or resources so far. After browsing the book for a few minutes, he sets it back down on the table and goes upstairs to join her.

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I've been working on this chapter since I updated the last one, and while I want to get on with the plot, there is going to be some mostly-filler chapters, and I know this one should be longer, but I've been looking at it for a few days now, and thinking what more I can put into it without starting on the next chapter, and this is it. So chapters will get longer, but for now, they're mostly just filler, and some things about the characters. Things will speed up soon, just... not yet.


End file.
